of stars. It was time for a home of her own, she knew, though she'd miss the sounds and scents of family.
But there was something inside her that told her the time was now for the next stage of what she was and where she was going. There'd been a different tone between her and Shawn the night before, and it had changed everything in her once and forever. Her mind and her heart were in one place now.
It was time to tell him, to ask him. To browbeat him if there was no choice. Whatever it took, the O'Tooles were going to be planning another wedding.
God help them all.
She scooted over to the ladder, climbed down. Leaving her toolbox by the back door, she went in to tell her mother the job was done and she'd be on her way.
When the phone rang, she picked it up without thinking, then guiltily tucked the receiver under her chin and wiped the shingle grime off her hands onto her jeans. 'Hello.'
'Miss O'Toole?'
'This is one of them.'
'Miss Brenna O'Toole.'
'Aye, you've hit the target.' Automatically Brenna pulled open the refrigerator door and perused the contents. 'What can I do for you?'
'Would you hold the line, please, for Mr. Magee?'
'Oh.' She shot up straight, bumping the door with her hip and slamming it on her own hand. She bit back a yelp. 'Yes, I could do that. Goddamn it,' she added in a mutter when she heard the line click, and sucked at her sore fingers.
'Miss O'Toole, Trevor Magee.'
'Good day to you, Mr. Magee.' She recognized his deep, smooth voice from the time she'd waded through what had seemed like an army of assistants to speak with him. 'Are you calling from New York City?'
'No, actually I'm on my way to London.'
'Oh.' Her initial disappointment in not taking a call from New York vanished in a fresh thrill. 'Are you calling from an airplane, then?'
'That's right.'
She wanted to shout for her mother to come quick, but thought it would sound just a little too countrified. 'It's kind of you to take time out of your busy schedule.'
'I always make time for what interests me.' He sounded like he meant it and that the reverse was entirely true as well. 'Then perhaps you've had time to look at the package Aidan Gallagher sent you.'
'A good look. You and your father are quite a team.' Because her hand was throbbing, she pulled some ice out of the freezer. 'We are. And I have to add, Mr. Magee, I know Ardmore and what suits it.'
'I can't argue with that, Miss O'Toole.' She thought she caught a hint of amusement in his tone and braced herself. 'Perhaps you could tell me what your thoughts are on my design, then?'
'It interests me. I have to look at it more thoroughly, but it interests me. Gallagher didn't mention where you had studied design.'
She narrowed her eyes, then decided if it was a trap it was best to fall into it now as opposed to later. 'On the job, sir. My father has worked in the trade all his life, and I learned at his side. I would imagine you had some of the same sort of experience with your own father.'
'You could say that.'
'Then you know a lot can be learned by the doing of things. Between the two of us, my father and I, we handle most of the building and repairing in Old Parish. And if we don't, we know who does. As that, we'd be some considerable help to you with your project. You'll find no better than the O'Tooles in Old Parish-or all of Waterford, for that matter. You're planning to build in Ardmore, Mr. Magee, and it's good business, I'm sure you'll agree, to use local skill and labor when you're able. We'll be happy to send you references.'
'And I'll be happy to see them. You build a strong case, Miss O'Toole.'
'I can assure you I build better with wood and brick than with words.'
'I'll see that for myself, as I'm hoping to carve out a day or two to visit the site personally before too much longer.'
'If you let us know the particulars, my father and I will be happy to meet you at your convenience.'
'I'll be in touch.'
'Ah- I don't mean to worry you, Mr. Magee, but I'm wondering if you had a moment to look at the music I sent along to you.'
'Yes, I did. I'm not sure I understand. Are you representing Shawn Gallagher?'
'No, I'm not, no. It's- a bit complicated.'
'Then he doesn't have representation?'
'Ah, no. Not at the present time.' How the devil did this sort of thing work? 'You could say I'm acting on his behalf in this particular instance on a personal level.'
'Hmm.'
She winced, thinking there was entirely too much knowledge in that small and casual sound. 'Would you mind telling me what you thought of it yourself?'
'Enough to buy it if Gallagher's selling, and to want a chance to negotiate for his other work. I assume he has other work.'
'He does, yes. Scads of it.' She forgot her throbbing hand, dropped her ice in the sink. While her feet danced, she fought to keep her voice cool and professional. 'You're saying you'd buy the tune. But for what purpose would that be?'
'For the purpose of recording, eventually.'
'But I was under the impression that you build things.'
'One of the things I've built is a record company. Celtic Records.' He paused, and sounded amused when he spoke again. 'Do you want references, Miss O'Toole?'
'Well, now, could I be getting back to you on that? I'll need to discuss this with Shawn.'
'Of course. My New York office knows how to reach me.'
'Thank you for your time and consideration, Mr. Magee. I hope to meet you in person before much longer. I-' She simply ran out of words. 'Thank you.'
The minute she hung up the phone she let out a shout of triumph, then raced through the house to the front door. 'Ma, I've got to go! I'll be back when I can.'
'Go?' Mollie dashed out of the back bedroom to the top of the stairs in time to see her daughter's lorry bullet into the road. 'That girl. If it's not the first thing it's the second. Go where, I'd like to know, and is my roof finished or isn't it? I'll give her both sides of my tongue if I have to listen to water plopping into buckets one more night.'
Before she could go back to work, she saw Shawn's car pull in. 'All this coming and going around here,' she muttered and started down the steps. 'It's making my head spin.'
She pushed open the door and waited while Shawn made his way to her. 'Good morning to you, Shawn. I'm afraid you've just missed Brenna. She went tearing out of here not a minute ago like her trousers were afire.'
'Ah, well.' He cleared his throat. 'I wasn't actually coming by to see Brenna.'
'Weren't you now?' She gave him a considering look, but knew better than to wait for him to explain himself. That, she knew from experience, could take half the day, and she'd as soon be sitting down for part of it. 'Well, then, I'm all that's left. Come inside, why don't you, and we'll have a cup.'
'I'd be grateful.' He ducked inside behind her and trailed her into the kitchen. 'I don't want to take much of your time.'
'Lad, you've been in and out of this house since you could toddle. No one's ever booted you out the door before, and I'm not after starting now.' She waved a hand toward the table and went about the business of making tea. 'Brenna's a heart and mind of her own. As I'm sure you know.'
'That I do. I thought I should come 'round to see if- to make certain you-'
She had to take pity on him. 'Are you afraid I don't love you anymore, my handsome lad?' The worry in his eyes faded away as she reached over and scrubbed a hand over his hair, as she'd done as long as he could remember. 'There's no danger of that changing. Now if you'd taken up with my Katie, I'd have boxed your ears to the back of your head.'
